Mirrors Tell No Lies
by NickSparkss
Summary: Mirrors tell no lies, but reflections can sometimes stray from the truth. Beyond Birthday's struggle with his obsession with L drives him to go to great lengths to catch his prey's attention...
1. Coveted

In a dark hotel room, in the Kanto region of Japan, two figures, both clad in white, sat in silence, one unaware of the other's presence.

L, the world's top three detectives, hammered away on the keys of his laptop, processing data at incredible speed. No less than ten windows, flashed around the screen of, not only the laptop screen in front of him, but the two large monitors set up to either side of it.

On the left of the three screens, a bio of Light Yagami and his immediate family could be viewed, along with a video feed of a boy in black, with his hands restrained behind him. He appeared to be in a cell. Upon further inspection, one could tell that they were actually the same person. The middle screen flickered between a word processor and a spreadsheet, presumably containing data concerning Kira's killings. Finally, on the right, a demographic of the people killed, systematically divided into various categories.

Beyond Birthday took in all of this information from his silent vigil behind his prey, as he had been doing for the last hour or so.

How had he found L? He created a decoy website, filled with information about Kira, and his hypothesis about why he killed. Of course, he cared for Kira no more than any other petty criminal, he just needed to attract L's computer signal. When an encrypted IP address logged onto his site, Beyond unscrambled it and found the code he was looking for. He used a simple program to triangulate the location of the signal, leading him straight to L.

And now, he sat, not even five yards from his target, patiently waiting. Observing. Memorizing.

Call it obsessive if you will, but Beyond wanted to rehearse his plan of attack in his mind as many times as possible; he would not be caught off guard.

L, bathed in the blue light of his computer, looked inhuman. From his curved back, to his precarious perch, he seemed an impossible being.

With both minds in the room running a million miles an hour, Beyond decided that it was time to move.

From his mimicked crouch, he stood towering over L.

The second L heard the rustle of clothing, his thinking screeched to a halt. Watari was asleep. Room service closed four hours and twenty seven minutes ago. Light was still in his cell. Who could be in his room? He dared not turn around.

Beyond sauntered forward, until he was exactly next to L, then crouched down. The two mirror images sat in silence; one too nervous to speak, while the other had so much to say that he wasn't sure where to start.

"Hiya, L."

"B," L replied curtly.

The copy pouted slightly at the detective's tone.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be somewhere? I don't know, say, prison?" L demanded.

Beyond raised his thumb to his lip, in mock thought, "Oh that place? I got bored. Why would you send me to somewhere so completely mind-numbing, L? A few dead bodies doesn't warrant that sort of torture, now does it?"

The original shook with rage.

"Backup, I'm not going to play your games. I put you in prison because you deserved it. The death penalty would have been a light sentence for you. Nothing is worse for a particularly sharp person, such as yourself, than to see their own mind unravel, and feel their self decline into insanity. Though, you couldn't exactly be called 'sane' either before I locked you up," the detective retorted.

Beyond hummed in thought before replying, "Neither can you, really. You stay up all night, you show no emotions, and have a fixation with sweets. Normal? I doubt it. By the way, can I call you Sherlock?"

"No you may not."

L helped himself to another bite of strawberry cheesecake before finally turning, to lock eyes with his unwanted company.

It really was like looking into a mirror. The unruly hair, the slightly pointed nose, the pale lips, dark circles under his eyes, lithe frame, and attire, it was all there. Except for the eyes themselves. L's slate grey eyes bore into B's bloody crimson orbs.

"So why are you really here?" the original questioned.

"Well that's a secret, Lawliet," Backup replied.

Before the shock from the use of his real name subsided, B pulled a syringe from his pocket, and sunk it into L's neck.

A misty fog descended into the detective's mind, clouding his wild thoughts. He managed a slurred, "What's…in…this stuff?"

"Don't worry, Sherlock, nothing too major. Just don't want you trying to escape just yet, you know?" Beyond replied lightly, as though he hadn't just drugged someone.

As L started to cease functioning, his balance deceased, which left him teetering around all over the place. Anticipating his fall, his protégé caught him under his arms, and hefted him up. Beyond shifted L's weight into his left arm, where he touched the laptop monitor once, with his thumb, in the middle of the ornate gothic L. Watari would check the scene for prints later, and he wanted him to know the gravity of the situation.

Carrying him bridal style, the copy walked out into the grey night, carrying his prey gently through the city of Winchester.

* * *

A/N: Well, what did you think? This one's going to be my first non-oneshot fic, so I'm looking for a little constructive criticism to see if I'm going in a good direction.

Hope you're all having a wonderful holiday season, and I hope to hear from you all!


	2. Salt

Beyond Birthday grinned much like the cat who caught the canary… because he did. He grinned maniacally as he thought of his detective in a drug induced slumber, resting on the hotel bed. Walking downtown with his hands jammed in his pockets, he went towards a storage service building. When he got to the gates, he entered the code that granted him access and he continued onto his unit. 1310, 1311, 1312...1313, there it is. He swiftly took the key out of his pocket, and unlocked the padlock, allowing him to slip into the small space. He coughed from the dust that was disturbed by the opening of the door.

The room was small, but it was packed with information about L. Newspaper clippings lined all four walls. A calligraphy L was painted on the floor, only to have blood smeared on to the right side of it, turning the L into a B. There was a small desk, with some papers, and a portable TV that faced a dusty, dingy looking loveseat. It looked to be where Beyond had lived after his breakout from prison.

The copy crouched down next to the desk and dragged out a box labeled "Fun" on the side. He pushed it outside onto the sidewalk and locked down his unit once again. He hefted the box up and hurried back to the hotel. After all, the drugs wouldn't last forever, and if Lawliet woke up and left, his plans would be ruined. But there was only a 6% chance that he would.

The younger of the two slipped into the room, unnoticed by the other, seeing as he was still asleep. B opened up the box and shuffled the things around, metallic clinking emanating from the box. He found what he was looking for, and hopped up from his crouch. Bounding back to L's resting place, he started to untangle the contents. They were straps, the kind that you normally see in mental asylums. As he was working out the knots, the original started to stir.

L's mind came back online, but very, very slowly. He blinked. Where was he? Trying to run over the last things he remembered, he recalled that he talked with Beyond, he knew his name… And he had gotten drugged. He tried to bring his thumb up to his mouth, for comfort, but he found that his hand was being kept stationary. He curled his fingers around the thick leather strip, finding that it went over both his arms. Quietly, he tried out his feet. It seemed that they were tied down too. Feeling hopeless, he decided that it was time to let his protégé know that he was awake.

"Beyond, what do you think you're doing?" L slurred. His voice was raspy and quiet from disuse.

"Oh yay, you're awake Lawliet!" he plastered on a fake smile and laughed like a junkie about to get his fix. He went and sat on the side of the bed, absently stroking the leather bonds around L's wrist.

"Quite. But where are we?" the original drawled.

Beyond giggled, "I can't tell you that, what if your friend Wammy put bugs on you?"

L grumbled. "I am not bugged, Backup. There would be no reason for that."

Beyond's face went from sickly sweet, to a dangerous glower. He leaned forward, closing the distance between L and himself. They were only inches away from each other. "Do. Not. Call. Me. Backup." he growled.

"Why not? That's what the program was about. That's what you are. A replacement. A plan B. A Backup," L declared boldly.

In seconds, a knife was drawn from out of nowhere and pressed up against L's neck. "Do you want to say it again, _Lawliet_?" He spat his mentor's name like it tasted foul.

"Could you kill me, B? Would you kill me? I don't think you can," the original droned in monotone.

The knife gleamed as it cut a line in the older man's face, across his cheek. L winced and tried to nurse the wound with his hand, but could not. Beyond got off the bed. L tried to track him with his eyes, but had limited movement, and he kneeled out of his line of sight. When B popped back up and onto the bed, one hand held the knife, and the other was balled around something. He cupped L's cheek in the hand without the knife.

L howled. It burnt, it burnt, it BURNT. His wound felt like it was on fire, it was stinging so badly. Salt. He had salt in his hand, and now it was in his wound.

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!" he screamed in pain. Beyond chose not to reply, he simply licked his hand, enjoying the taste of the salt mixed with the blood of his mentor.

"Told you not to call me names, Sherlock."

L hissed in pain as his response as Beyond laughed. Once again, he hopped off the bed and rustled in the box.

"Where the hell did it go? Oh, here it is," he spoke softly to himself. Beyond lifted himself onto his knees, where L could see him, and flashed a malicious grin. L swallowed nervously.

"Something amusing, B?" Lawliet managed, trying to sound bored, but could not.

"Oh yes," the copy stood, holding a white garment, "very amusing." He unbuckled the straps on the bed.

"Strip down to your boxers."

L looked mortified.

"Do you require motivation?" Beyond asked, twirling the knife around in his hand. The detective shook his head, and started to remove his shirt. Soon after, his pants fell away from his lithe hips. The room was cold, and he was clothed in nothing but black silk boxers. L shivered.

"This is what I wore for the last few months, Lawliet, I want you to see how it feels," the copy sneered.

Suddenly, he kicked L square in the chest, knocking him to the floor. Once he was down, B flipped him onto his back and twisted his arms behind him painfully. The original shouted in pain as he was forced into a heavy garment, he guessed it was made from thick canvas.

As the arms were put on, he felt buckles. Oh no…

It was a straight jacket.

The buckles fastened the sleeves behind his back, as a strap went between his legs from front to back, to make it impossible to remove. L struggled relentlessly, but received nothing but a kick in the side, and he was roughly pulled up by the collar of the jacket.

"How do you like it _L_? Is it _comfortable_? Imagine wearing this for _months_," Beyond snarled, "I didn't like it very much. Neither will you, I imagine."

L looked surprised through the pain, "You plan to keep me here for months? How are you going to avoid getting caught?"

Beyond laughed, "I'm not going to keep you here for months. I'm going to put the pain of all those months into a few days. Enjoy yourself L. Welcome to hell."


End file.
